


a little bit in love with you (as long as you're a little bit in love with me)

by PinkCanary



Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-27
Updated: 2013-10-27
Packaged: 2017-12-30 15:14:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1020210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkCanary/pseuds/PinkCanary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For thewondersmith, who requested: "Simon's various Abel conquests! AKA, Simon Bangs Literally Everyone With The Exception Of Ed Because I'm Pretty Sure The Dude Would Choke Him Out If He Tried."  </p><p>It was only natural that people tried to cling to whatever source of hope and warmth and humanity that they could find, after the apocalypse.  Simple pleasures became everything.  A simple embrace became everything.  </p><p>Simon would have laughed at that - when were simple embraces ever simple?</p>
            </blockquote>





	a little bit in love with you (as long as you're a little bit in love with me)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thewondersmith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewondersmith/gifts).



> For thewondersmith - http://thewondersmith.tumblr.com/ - who wrote the most detailed and awesome and terrifying list of prompts ever. 
> 
> Also, I literally just finished S2M39 yesterday, so obviously the events at the end of season 2 don't come into this. You're welcome. Nothing particularly spoilery, but mentions of general happenings in season 2 up to about the half-way point.

It wasn't like he made a conscious effort at it, but it just kept _happening_. 

It was only natural that people tried to cling to whatever source of hope and warmth and _humanity_ that they could find, after the apocalypse. Simple pleasures became everything. A simple embrace became everything. 

Simon would have laughed at that - when were simple embraces ever _simple_?

* * *

It was soon after the outbreak; the Major was still directing the building at the De Luca farmhouse, and the air reeked of desperation and fear. Every day, new people would arrive, sometimes alone and sometimes in groups, begging shelter and protection. Janine hadn't begun turning them away, yet.

Shellshocked. That was the only word to describe the atmosphere at the small cluster of tents that would eventually become known as Abel Township.

Simon had arrived soon after the Major had taken over. Janine had given him an appraising look - strong, young, uninjured - and curtly gestured towards the tent area. "You'll have to negotiate where you'll be sleeping, Mr Lauchlan. We don't really have room for more, and yet you all _keep showing up at my doorstep._ " She walked away without further comment. 

That had been several weeks earlier, and yet, they kept arriving. 

This one was different. 

Simon had been on guard duty the day that Sara Smith marched through the farm gate like she had been there her entire life, and immediately demanded to speak to Janine De Luca or Major De Santa.

"And you would be?"

The woman looked him over… and came up unimpressed. 

"Sara Smith. Now, if you please, where might I find Ms. De Luca?" Simon pointed vaguely in the direction of the farmhouse, and the woman set off without another word.

Simon had decided that his first impressions of Ms. Smith were probably correct, and had done his best to stay clear of her. Which is why he was surprised when she sought him out one day, as he collected firewood in the woods outside of Abel. "I don't suppose that you're an even halfway decent runner?"

Simon gave her a withering look, but his curiosity had been piqued. "I'm pretty fast, I suppose. I used to go to the gym fairly regularly, _before_. What do you have in mind?"

"The Major wants to send out some people - people who are fast enough to outrun the average zom - to collect supplies and trade intel with our neighbours. She's looking for someone who is in good shape and wouldn't mind the potential risk of having their face eaten by monsters. You game?"

And that was how Simon found himself setting out from Abel in a pair of running shoes with a baseball bat slung over his shoulder. 

Sara was easily keeping pace beside him, her gaze fixed on the countryside ahead. 

"So Sara, what kind of work did you do before this whole country got taken over by the undead?" She was brusque; a quip, a half-answer, and a skillful subject maneuver back to him.

"Well Simon, where were you before you came to Abel?" He didn't even have a reason to be sly, but something about her made him guarded. A few words of truth, a double entendre, a subject change.

The conversation went back and forth in that way for a few miles, before they settled into a mostly comfortable silence. Wordlessly, the pair entered an abandoned convenience store through the door, which was hanging open. Simon raised his baseball bat up over his shoulder as he scanned the store for zombies. The place was clear, and he gave Sara a thumbs up before flicking the lock on the front door. The lock might not hold zombies for long, but it would give them a bit of warning, at least. 

Simon made his way over to the small food section, where Sara was throwing tins of soup into her backpack. Simon could respect a woman who kept her secrets tightly guarded, but he had to admit that he was intrigued to find out who Sara Smith really was. This feeling was only amplified when, without warning, he was pushed up against the glass of a cooler case full of soda and long-expired milk. 

Before he knew what was happening, her tongue was in his mouth and her hand was down his running shorts. _What the hell?_ Despite his surprise, he found himself responding to her insistent mouth. She bit roughly at his lips as she kissed him, and her free hand reached up to tangle in his hair, tugging slightly. 

"Shorts. Now. We haven't much time," she commanded, and Simon was quick to obey. She pulled her own running shorts down her toned legs and slipped them down over her own feet without removing her running shoes. Simon took that opportunity to reverse their positions, pressing her back against the cool glass and lifting her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and then reached down to guide him into her.

Their coupling was fast and rough and efficient. It had been awhile for Simon - sex wasn't exactly a priority in the days immediately following a zombie apocalypse - and he found himself hitting his climax much earlier than he normally would have liked, grunting as he frantically thrusted against her hips He winced at the sound of her back connecting with the cooler door, but Sara seemed to take it all in stride, even _enjoying_ the roughness, and grinding her hips down against him as she came.

Their harsh breathing sounded too loud in the abandoned store. "What the fuck was that?" The words escaped his mouth after a few gasps to catch his breath.

She just smirked at him. "We're all going to need alliances in the coming days, Simon. You are going to want to be on my side. We could have just shaken hands, but I figured we would both enjoy this a lot more."

At that moment, Simon realized that he and Sara understood each other better than he could have ever imagined. She was right, he had no idea how this was going to play out, and he couldn't afford to have an enemy like Sara Smith.

* * *

Sam had once made a joke to Janine about runners being _extremely_ thankful to him for saving their lives. The truth was, there was only one runner who had ever expressed that level of gratitude. 

The door to the comms shack opened, a dark sliver of shadow cutting the dimly lit stillness of the room. Sam's head snapped up from where it rested on the desk. His tense worried eyes met Simon's intense gaze.

"That one was close, Sammy."

Sam sighed. It had been too close. Simon had gotten caught out after dark; not too far from Abel, but surrounded by zombies. Sam had led Simon several miles out of his way, weaving and dodging through the countryside, in an attempt to lose the hoard. It had taken several tense hours, but Simon had made it home safe and through the gates. And then straight to the comms shack.

Simon settled into the chair next to Sam. His skin was still gleaming with sweat and drying salt; his eyes were bright with fear and adrenaline. The only light in the room came from the blinking LEDs on the technical equipment. "I know I've been a bit of a dick, Sam, but you really saved my ass out there." 

It was Sam's job - remaining safe and sound inside the gates, while he listened to his friends die. On the days that he was able to bring them back, he had his own solitary celebration here in the booth, while the runners decompressed together. Part of the team, and yet the one who was always by himself - the voice on the other end of the headset. 

Sam still hadn't spoken; what was there to say? Simon's expression was unreadable in the darkness, and Sam jumped a little as he suddenly leaned forward to bridge the distance between their chairs.

Simon's lips were rough against Sam's. His stubble rubbed against Sam's smooth chin, his mouth harsh and demanding. Sam gasped quietly - whether out of shock or desire, even he wasn't sure. Simon took the opportunity to force Sam's mouth open wider, his tongue seeking entrance. 

It occurred to Sam that he should be questioning exactly what was going on between himself and the runner, but it had been a long night and he wasn't exactly in a resisting mood anymore. He opened his mouth and allowed Simon's tongue into his mouth, stroking against his insistently. He moaned for real this time, and Simon acknowledged his wordless acceptance by reaching down to the button of his pants. 

Sam felt a wave of arousal, but he tensed as Simon reached his hand into his pants and wrapped his hand around his cock.

"Simon… I - I - I don't think…"

"Shhh, Sam. Don't think." 

He let his eyes slip closed, as Simon reached down with his other hand to pull Sam's pants down off of his hips, guiding his ass up off the chair to slip them off, and then settling him back down in his seat. Despite his hesitation, he could feel his body reacting to Simon's touch as he began teasing the head of Sam's cock. Sam let out a strangled gasp as Simon's thumb danced over his slit, before beginning to move in a slow rhythm, stroking up and down, from base to tip. 

Sam's hands reached up to grip the arms of the chair. This wasn't how he imagined his night ending, but he was quickly losing the ability to care at all.

His eyes flew open as Simon shifted his position, moving to kneel in front of Sam. Simon's eyes flicked up to meet Sam's, and there was a hint of a challenge, a _smirk_ , before he dipped his head down and ran his tongue up the full length of Sam's cock. Sam gasped. _Oh god…_

Of their own volition, Sam's hips jerked up, thrusting and meeting only air. A full-fledged grin graced Simon's face. "Well, in that case..."

His lips closed over Sam, then, and he was no longer taking it slow. His head bobbed, faster and faster, taking Sam deeper into his mouth. Sam could feel the tension already building, and gripped the arms of the chair tighter, trying to restrain himself from thrusting. Simon flicked his tongue over the head of Sam's cock at the top of a stroke, and Sam moaned unintelligibly.

And then he's coming, hard, into Simon's mouth. "Fuck," he groaned, his hips still bucking slightly, as Simon pressed his hips down into the chair.

Simon leaned back and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. He smirked at Sam, giving him a cocky grin. "That's the only way to decompress after a tough mission."

Sam could only nod, as he slumped back into his chair, his energy completely spent. 

But Simon was already on his way out of the comms shack. The runner's demeanour had completely changed from when he walked into the booth - gone was the fear and the tension, replaced with the familiar Simon that Sam was accustomed to. His body was already through the door, but he popped his head back in quickly.

"Congrats, Sam. You're now officially one of us runners."

Sam could only imagine exactly what that meant.

* * *

Jody gave a little hum of contentment as she leaned back in the couch, bumping her shoulder against Simon's. 

It had been a good day. She and Simon had been sent out on a supply run. No one had died, they had found the medical supplies that they were looking for (plus a little bit extra), and she and Simon had bantered playfully with Sam on the way home. Janine hadn't even come into the comms shack to yell at them. Definitely an excellent day.

And now, Jody was cheerfully buzzed on whatever it was that Evan brewed in his tent, listening to an equally buzzed Jack telling some story that had poor Eugene turning multiple shades of purple. Oh yes, it was a good day.

"So, Eugene has his pants around his ankles, and I'm only wearing a pair of socks, but what do you do? Leave the guy out there to be eaten by zombies?"

Eugene interjected, "Yes! That was in fact the proper course of action at that moment!"

Jody grinned and snuggled a bit closer in to Simon's shoulder. She liked days that she was sent on runs with Simon; it was like she changed during those runs. She was a little bit braver, whined a bit less, cracked a few more jokes… Living in the zombie apocalypse was hard, but having the proper ally helped a lot. 

"Alright, Clover?" Simon was grinning at her, and she looked over to see that Jack and Eugene were staring at her, as well. 

Jody flushed. How long had she zoned out for? "I think that I may be drunk."

That earned her a smirk from Jack. "You truly are spending too much time with Three here, then. The big lush. Watch or he's going to rub off on you."

"Hey, now! Jody is a lady and I only rub off on lowlifes like myself."

Jody flushed an even brighter shade of pink.

"Well, I think that's our cue to go." Jack gently helped Eugene to his feet and handed him his crutches. 

"Nothing I wouldn't do, Simon. Well, everything I wouldn't do, I guess." Jack gave Simon one last wink as they left.

Jody groaned and buried her face into Simon's shoulder. "They totally think we're doing it, don't they?"

"Most definitely."

She laughed nervously. "You're my best friend, Si, and I don't know what I would do here without you. You're the one who is keeping me sane through all this."

"We're both in trouble, then, Clover." His words were teasing, but his gentle smile belied his true affection for the tiny brunette. 

And Jody wasn't sure whether it was that _look_ that he was giving her then, or Evan's moonshine, but she felt _brave_ like she only did with him. Her eyes closed as she tilted her head towards Simon, lips parted just the tiniest bit as she brushed them softly against his. She felt a jolt at even just that gentle touch - was that a cliche? - and added a little pressure to the kiss. 

Her eyes snapped open as she realized that Simon hadn't moved. Fuck.

Jody pulled away to look him in the eye. He met her gaze for the briefest second, and then his eyes flickered downwards. She sighed.

"I have had too much to drink, and I should get to bed." She stood to leave, but Simon grabbed her arm to stop her.

Jody's heart jumped a bit, but all he said was, "I'll walk you to your bunk. Make sure you get there safe."

She nodded. "Fine."

The silence hung between them as they made the short walk to Jody's tent. What used to be companionable was now awkward. 

_Well that could have gone better._

* * *

Janine's farmhouse is largely off-limits to the majority of Abel. Individuals are invited in on an as-needed basis, and the door is closed tightly behind them when they leave.

There are several exceptions.

Sara comes and goes as she wishes. (Simon does not know whether it is business or pleasure that brings her to Janine's home, but guesses that it is a complex mixture of both.)

Sam, - young, clueless, naive Sam - knocks on the door at any time, day or night, and is often harshly dismissed. (This is not always the case, however, and Simon assumes that Janine does have a measure of affection for the young operator, despite her adamant claims to the contrary.)

Simon himself has been invited in on several occasions, and now has the understanding that he is allowed to enter if the door has been left unlocked. (The door is often left unlocked for him, these days.)

The rope is tied tightly around Simon's wrists, tight enough to give just the barest edge of pain to the pleasure. His eyes travel up the curve of Janine's spine, and he wishes for a moment that he could reach his hands out to grasp her narrow hips as she rides him.

This has never been Simon's scene. He enjoys the sex, obviously, but the ritual, the roles, the _submission_? No, not really his thing. Not that he would ever consider himself to be particularly _vanilla_ , but he prefers sex to be more…. uncomplicated.

But he does like that look that Janine gets on her face when she comes.

Which makes their current position all the more ironic, Simon thinks, as Janine's hips speed up their thrusting, and her fingers move down to circle her clit. But then, he imagines, that is probably part of the game. How well she knows him, while he is not sure that he understands her at all.

Janine's orgasm hits suddenly, and she bucks against his hips, her entire body trembling and shaking. It's damn hot, even from behind, and Simon can feel his own body start to tense. 

"Not yet, Simon." He groans. This is part of the game, too.

She reaches forward and, with her hands on his knees, pushes herself up off of his cock. He bites down a whimper, but his hips betray him and thrust upward. Janine grins at him as she turns to face him.

Simon is bracing himself for the long game - this wouldn't be the first time that Janine had tortured him. But her smile softens almost immediately, and she reaches down to guide herself back down on to him. Her hands trace over the tensed muscles in his chest for a moment, before she braces herself on his shoulders.

"You've been very good, Simon. Very patient."

He doesn't like that her gentle praise turns him on, but…. oh, it does. He moans and thrusts his hips up again, and she lowers herself down to kiss him, uncharacteristically gentle, before beginning to move again. 

Simon is close, so close, but he's still waiting for Janine's word. _Oh, what the hell…_ Simon thinks. 

"Please, Jenny. _Please._ "

A wide grin splits Janine's face, and he feels her shiver from the inside out. She practically purrs, "Whenever you're ready, Simon."

The effect is immediate and he thrusts up into her, messy and uncoordinated, as he comes. He slumps down into the mattress, boneless and sated, only to feel Janine lean forward on his chest. She places a gentle kiss against his neck, which turns into a teasing bite, before she reaches up to untie him from where he is still tethered to the solid wooden headboard.

Simon closes his eyes and waits to be dismissed, but instead feels Janine's body come to rest against his chest. His eyes flicker open in surprise, but he simply wraps his arms around her slender body and waits for his heartbeat to slow back down to a normal pace.

"I have been quite enjoying this…. arrangement, Simon." Janine's voice has a hint of softness to it, like Simon has never heard before. 

He murmurs in agreement, not knowing what else to say, and not wanting to royally fuck up whatever had changed in the last five minutes. 

It seems as if these farmhouse walls are not quite as impenetrable as Simon had originally thought.

* * *

Runner Five came tearing into the training area; she was practically vibrating with excitement. Her hair had come loose from her ponytail and was falling in her face, her clothing streaked with mud and just a little bit of blood. 

"Alright, Five?"

She stopped in the middle of the running track, bending a little bit and trying to catch her breath. The words came quickly, in between gasps for air. "Janine…. guns… batshit…" She stopped, straightened up, and pushed the hair out of her face. "I found tequila. Lots of tequila."

Simon sprung into action. "Well, no time to waste, then."

Sam had been easy enough to convince - they were simply going on a "supply run" for some "entertainment supplies". He had even loaded some TV shows (the good stuff - all HBO and Showcase series full of sex and nudity - the kind that were actually worth something in barter) on to a hard drive to take with them to the distillery. In the end, there hadn't even been any sneaking or running or shooting - Simon had been charming and Five had been silent, and they had exchanged their "intel" for the "goods". Twelve bottles of Britain's finest tequila, loaded into two backpacks, and carefully brought back to Abel. Mission completed.

They set up their impromptu tequila shack near the residence area. Simon surveyed their work. "It'll do for now. I'll keep my eyes open for some twinkle lights. Maybe we can take a look in a pub - see if we can get some decorations. Class it up a bit."

People began to trickle over as news of the runners' success spread through the township. Jody was trying to figure out how to mix a margarita without ice or salt or lime or…. anything that went into a margarita, besides the tequila. Someone had set up some speakers hooked to an iPod, and the sound of dance music began to filter through the quad. A drinking contest seemed to be breaking out between several of the runners, with Jack and Eugene providing a lively commentary. Simon snorted; there was no way Sara was going to lose that one. 

"We did good today, Five." He grinned at the other runner and reached out to pour them each a shot of tequila. 

Five smiled back. "Anything we can do to raise morale." She then frowned at her glass. "We're missing something."

Simon opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, when he felt a warm tongue against his neck. His head snapped toward Five in time to see her downing her shot of tequila. 

"Now all that's missing is the lime."

* * *

The night was dark and cold - the stars were pinpoints of light in the inky black sky. The night sky was so much clearer now, without all of the human lights to drown out the stars.

Simon crept across Abel, silent and fast as he made his way back to his bed. It was past curfew; the gates were locked and most of Abel was already asleep. Which made the pathetic noises coming from the hospital that much harder to ignore.

The lean figure paused in the darkness, his profile a study in indecision. He really considered continuing on his way - minding his own business, and all that. He groaned. Fine, then.

Simon turned and started in the direction of the hospital. It was dark, but he could see a faint light escaping from the room that Maxine used as her office. The noise was definitely coming from there; Simon could hear the sniffling, punctuated with the occasional soft sob. This was so beyond his comfort zone.

It wasn't that he didn't like the doctor, but the two of them had just never _clicked_ like he had with many of Abel's other residents. He could joke around with her, make small talk, join in with another marathon round of torturing Sam…. but there was nothing deeper there. He had never really thought about it; Maxine seemed to have plenty of support around Abel. 

But tonight, it was only him.

Simon knocked on the door softly. He heard the abrupt creak of a chair, like someone had startled upright, and then some shuffling of papers. He took that as permission to enter and pushed the door open slowly. 

"Hey, Doctor. I was passing by and heard some noises. Just wanted to make sure everything was alright."

Maxine was sitting at her desk, looking at him with a strange, almost _guilty_ expression. Her eyes were red and puffy and glittered with unshed tears. She looked…. broken. Just defeated.

"Oh shit, Maxine, just come here." He stepped forward and held his arms out.

Maxine hesitated for a second, before standing and meeting his embrace. Sobs wracked her body as she shook with her tears. Simon was shocked by how thin she was. He remembered looking in appreciation at her curvy body when she first arrived at Abel, but he hadn't paid much attention to how she had changed in the months since then. They had all lost weight, sure, but Maxine seemed small and frail in his arms. Simon found himself wondering if she had been eating. Did she ever sleep, for that matter? She had been taking care of all of them, but who was taking care of her?

After what seemed like an eternity, he forced himself to speak. "Is everything okay? Do you want to talk…?"

Maxine pulled away slightly. "Nothing new. Paula. The zombie spray. It kills fucking _kids_ , Simon. It's just all so much, and I'm not sure…. I'm not sure I'm strong enough to figure this out. I'm not sure I can do it."

"I'm not sure any of us are strong enough to survive this, Maxine, but you have a better shot than most of us."

She let out a snort of laughter - the kind that was entirely without humour. But it was a start. 

Simon tightened his grip on Maxine's small body and rested his chin on the top of her head. 

"C'mon, I'm taking you to bed." Maxine stiffened in his arms. Simon had a moment of confusion before realization hit him and he chuckled. "I see my reputation precedes me. Your bed. You. You need to sleep occasionally, too, Doc." 

Maxine relaxed and let out a small snort of laughter, before pulling away. "Deal." She made her way back to her desk and put away the papers that covered the surface, before stepping back towards Simon. He took her elbow gently, and started leading her towards the door. "Right this way, milady."

Simon dropped her off just inside the door to the small shack that she slept in, next to the hospital. "Good night, Maxine."

"Good night, Simon. Thank you for checking on me."

Simon gave her one last smile before heading back out into the night. Now, that wasn't so bad. 

He had almost made it back to his own bunk when a shuffling figure appeared on his right. "Seriously, Simon, _Maxine_?" Eugene looked right pissed off. "Is nobody at Abel off limits?"

Simon started to open his mouth to defend his honour - haha! like anyone would believe that one, anymore - when he remembered the embarrassed look on Maxine's face when he had first entered her office. She was obviously trying to keep secret how much the stress of everything was affecting her. Trying to stay strong for everyone else. 

He fixed his face in his trademark lopsided smirk. "She was lonely."

Eugene scoffed. "And you had to be the one to _keep her company_?"

Simon grinned, amused at Eugene's protectiveness. "I don't think I did such a bad job."

* * *

Simon stretched his long legs towards the end of the cot, hooking his toes around the back of his shoes to kick them off. They hit the ground of the tent with a hollow thump. His hands were resting behind his head on the pillow as he laid back, staring up at the roof of the tent. He turned his head back and forth restlessly, struggling to get comfortable with the bulky headset still perched over his ears.

All of the runners took turns babysitting the radio during the night, and it was Simon's turn to listen to the static. He had spent the evening visiting amongst Abel's residents - chatting with Jody as she worked on her knitting, sitting in on a round of Demons and Darkness, helping out Ed as he dismantled some piece of decrepit machinery that he had found in the farm outbuildings. The rules of being "on call" clearly stated that you needed to remain awake, alert, and ready to head out at a moment's notice. Which meant that most of his normal distractions were out. One by one, all of Abel had eventually headed off to their own beds.

And now it was just him and the headset.

This forced _inactivity_ drove Simon crazy. He would rather be outside the gates, running from a hoard of the undead, than lying here by himself in his quiet tent. He traded his radio on-call shifts with Jody whenever he could - he would take a run from her, and she would spend a quiet evening with her yarn and the static. 

No such luck this time.

Simon's thoughts were interrupted by a sharp crack and a muffled thump. He snapped up into a sitting position, his eyes scanning the dark empty tent. His heart slowed down as he realized that the noise had come from the headset. Straining his ears, he could just barely make out the sound of voices. Simon reached up to adjust the volume, and the voices became clearer.

"---you're adorable, but not very coordinated."

"You try doing this with one leg!"

Simon let out a sharp bark of laughter. This night just got much more interesting…

There was no more talking, but Simon could clearly hear the gentle rustling of clothing on clothing, and the occasional quiet moan or murmur. 

Oh yes, _much_ more interesting.

Simon hadn't even realized that his eyes had drifted closed, but they snapped open when he heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper being pulled down. 

"Fuck, Jack…" Eugene's voice trailed off with a strangled moan.

At this point, there was a conscious decision to be made. Turn off the headset, let the boys have their privacy, go back to staring at the roof of his tent. _Imagine_ what was going on in the comms shack. Simon rolled his eyes. Not a chance. 

As if in agreement with his head, his hand started to slip under the waistband of his running shorts, seemingly of its own volition. Simon shook his head a bit, trying to clear the haze. This was most definitely crossing some line.

Another moan, more urgent this time, filtered over the headset. Simon held his breath for a moment, and he could hear the quiet sound of tongue and lips on flesh. He was instantly hard and his hand dropped the rest of the way into his shorts.

Well, alright then.

Simon moaned in answer to Eugene's gentle gasp. He pumped his own cock as his imagination filled in the blanks - he could almost see Eugene's head thrown back against the creaky office chair, as Jack knelt before him. The veins in his throat standing out in sharp relief to his pale flesh, his mouth open and panting, his hands gripping the arms of the chair. 

Eugene choked out Jack's name - a harsh, desperate sound - as he came. Simon wasn't far behind, but he slowed his stroking as he heard a rustling noise, a shift of position, from the headset. Then a rhythmic creaking, fast breathing coming in sharp pants, the gentle sound of skin on skin. 

Simon groaned; he could imagine Jack thrusting against Eugene's thigh, mouth pressed against Eugene's neck to muffle his moans, fast and desperate and _oh so close_. 

He swore as he came suddenly, the hot stream coating his hand and stomach. Fuck. 

Jack grunted softly and gasped, and then all that Simon could hear was his own pulse hammering in his ears, mixing with the harsh breathing on the headset. Gradually, his heartbeat slowed, as Jack and Eugene caught their own breath somewhere on the other side of Abel. 

Simon was just starting to drift into a satisfied doze, when he heard Eugene's concerned tone. 

"Doesn't that red light mean that we're broadcasting?"

He heard a rustling, followed by Jack's voice.

"Yeah, but that isn't the radio. It's the runners' headsets….. wait. We must have hit this button here ---" 

The radio abruptly cut off and then there was silence. 

Simon started to laugh, a sound of pure delight in the darkness. It wouldn't take them long to figure out who had been listening in to their accidental private show. 

This was certainly going to be fun at breakfast, tomorrow.

* * *

Jody swung her legs nervously, causing the tree branch to bounce back and forth with the movement. 

Simon reached out his hand to gently grip her thigh. "Easy there. I don't really want to be up in this tree, but it's better than being down there." They both looked down at the hoard of several dozen zombies below them. They had lost track of their prey, but the hoard was still clustered under the tree, moaning and shambling about. Sam had sent out Runners Five and Eight with noisemakers to distract them, but they were at least an hour away at this point. Nothing to do but sit quietly and hope that none of the zombies looked up…

"Want to play a game?" 

Simon grinned. "I Spy? Twenty Questions? Strip Twenty Questions?"

She covered her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. "That seems like a really great way to end up as zombie food."

"Well yes, but what a way to go! The last thing you would see would be my perfect abs…"

Jody smacked Simon lightly in the arm. "We should all be so lucky." Her grin faded, suddenly. "Speaking of which, how are things going with Janine?"

Simon groaned. "I'm back to being 'Mr. Lauchlan' again. Ever since Sara got back from her unquestionably shady little cruise vacation…. Well, it looks like Sara is back in, and I'm out."

"And how are you feeling about that?" Jody asked carefully.

"To be perfectly honest, I'm not entirely heartbroken that it's over. Janine is unquestionably hot, but she's the most complicated woman I've ever met. I'm not going to miss the constant questioning of where I stand with her. Now I know."

The silence stretched between them, interrupted only by the moans of the zombies far below. 

"Simon, can I ask you a question?"

"Anything, Clover. But you already know my feelings on Indie rock, Thai food, and any animal that scurries, slithers, or _skitters_." He shuddered exaggeratedly. "What else is left?"

"Why won't you kiss me?" The smile fell off of Simon's face, but she continued on with determination. 

"You've slept with practically everyone in Abel! I've heard the stories; it seems like _no one_ is immune to the Simon Lauchlan charms."

"Hey, I have not slept with Ed! That guy would stab me with a screwdriver if I ever tried anything."

Jody fixed him with a glare. "You know what I mean. It's like you have a booty call sixth sense. The very second someone even thinks about sex, there you are. But you and i spend all of our time together, I think that you like me, but the one time I try to kiss you…. you flake on me. Am I really that unattractive that you can't even see _me_ in that way?"

Simon was silent for a moment, staring down through the leaves at the milling undead. There is was. The issue that had been hanging between them for months. Jody was almost convinced that he wasn't going to answer the question, when he finally raised his eyes to meet hers. 

"You're perfect."

Her mouth fell open. "What?"

"You are perfect. You're gorgeous, and funny, and you can hold your own when everything has gone to shit, and you call me out when I'm being an idiot. _And_ you play a mean game of hide and seek and you don't even roll your eyes when I suggest it. You're perfect, Jody."

"Then why don't you want to be with me?"

"Don't want to be with you? I'm not sure where you got that idea, Clover. We spend almost all of our waking moments together." He gave her a sly grin.

"But I kissed you! And you didn't kiss me back! You even kiss _Jack_ back when he's been drinking too much and starts to get handsy." Jody was practically sputtering in confusion.

"Exactly! You were drunk and I didn't want us to have sex because you were drunk or we were horny or because I hadn't checked "Four" off on my tally of runners. If we kiss, I want it to mean something." Simon reached out and placed his hand on the side of her face. "You're different, Jody. I don't want to just throw that away."

Jody's eyes were wide as she looked into Simon's face; he had an uncharacteristically serious expression. "So what would happen if I kissed you right now? Are we both just caught up in the life or death situation? Or suffering from some sort of magic lust pollen given off by this tree?"

He grinned widely. "Well, there's only one way to find out, I guess." 

Simon leaned forward, until their lips were just a breath apart. His eyes were open and looking into hers, daring her to bridge the scant distance between them. With the ghost of a smile on her lips, Jody closed her eyes and brought her head in to brush her lips over Simon's. This time, he responded eagerly, kissing her gently but firmly and reaching up to bury his hands in her hair. His lips parted slightly and Jody slipped her tongue between them, gently twining her tongue with his for a moment before pulling her face away from his. Simon kept his tight grip on her hair, holding her face close, and she responded by resting her forehead against his.

"What do you think? Potential?" 

He laughed in response. "I don't know. We might have to try that again. And again. And again."

The silence between them was comfortable again. Welcome, even. But Jody could hear the distant sound of noisemakers approaching. "Looks like it's almost time to get out of this tree and head home." She pulled away from Simon's embrace reluctantly, but he was still grinning at her like an idiot.

"Where would you like to go for our first date, tonight? I can assure you that Abel offers many romantic zombie-free areas to get to know someone." He smirked, but she just winked back at him.

"You pick somewhere. I'm sure you know them all."


End file.
